“I promised you a car, didn’t I?”

I thought I’d left Dad at the rear of the lot with the new arrival of used cars from California, but there he was on the concrete apron in front of the showroom windows with Mom and my sisters standing around a blue car. He must have jogged to catch up with me before I got here.

Everyone was grinning, and Dad made a pumping motion with his fist. He yelled at me, “I promised you a car, didn’t I?” and he pointed at the blue one. Jordan and Molly cheered for me, bouncing around like crazy.

I was grinning so hard my face hurt, and I broke into a jog, too, out the side door and around to the front, still clutching the keys the service manager had tossed to me. “It’s beautiful!” I shouted back.

It was, too—a four- or five-year-old Capri, the European version of the Mustang, in a baby blue paint job not available on US Ford models. The black racing markings added to its appeal, and I fell in love with the car immediately.

I wanted to run up to Dad and give him a hug, and maybe thank him and call him Daddy, but I stopped myself. I knew I’d have to tell everyone what was going on with me, but not yet—not yet. No need to get into that until football season was over—and every reason not to.

The other thing I wanted to do was take my new car for a drive, and Jordan and Molly were already clamoring for me to do just that. We managed to get all five of us into what was essentially the same 2+2 seating arrangement as a Mustang, with Jordan and Mom in the back and Molly in Dad’s lap in the front passenger seat.

“Take her out to the highway and back, honey,” Dad said to me, and I noticed what he’d called me but decided not to worry about that until later. But I did as suggested, driving out of town toward Wilcox before turning back when the steeper incline started.

Molly and Jordan wanted me to open it up, but I ignored them. Mom gave me a smile in the rearview mirror. Time enough to see what it could do when I was alone. I drove back to the dealership at family car speeds, disappointing my sisters. “You’re going to have trouble with that one when it’s time to get her a car,” I said to Dad, indicating Molly with a grin.

She squealed, of course, and Jordan protested from the back seat, “Hey! I’m next!”

“You’re next for the station wagon,” Dad suggested over his shoulder. “When you get your license,” He added with a grin and wink at me. I heard someone giggle, and hoped it was Mom and not me.

We unloaded in the side lot at the dealership, and I confessed to Dad, “I thought you were calling me down to wash cars.”

He laughed at that. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that much anymore. Maybe I can get Jordan to do it,” he said with a sly look in her direction.

“Not until next summer,” she countered.

That made me pause, wondering just what I would look like come next summer. Back in early August, Megan, Joanna, and the other cheerleaders had raised money for uniforms and equipment with a “charity” carwash. In bikinis.

I felt myself blushing.

* * *

Later, after sorting out who would ride with who, and my sisters winning seats in the new car, I dropped them off at our door and headed over to Jake’s. The Saturday team meeting was still more than two hours away, and I wanted to show off my new baby.

The October morning still had the crisp feel of a new day even though it was almost noon, and I rode with all the windows down, enjoying the breeze in my hair. I hadn’t had a haircut since summer, but it seemed like my dark locks had grown faster than could be expected. I refused to think about it. If my hair got too long, I’d get it cut.

I parked on what passed for a lawn at Jake’s, next to his behemoth of a truck. Climbing out of my new ride, I caught a glimpse of my grin in the mirror on the side of the bigger vehicle. I looked a bit manic and idiotic, but I didn’t really care.

I reached back inside the Capri to give a single toot on the horn. One beep meant ‘come outside,’ and two meant ‘I’m coming in’—a code Jake and I had used since we both got wheels. Sure enough, Jake appeared at his door in less than a minute.

He sauntered down his back steps, taking in the scene—me standing there gesturing broadly at the Capri like I was presenting a prize on some game show. Jake frowned, then smiled and even grinned, as he seemed to realize what my presence with such a sporty car meant.

“Jesus,” he commented as he got closer. “Your car looks like something my truck would date!”

“You like my Baby Blue?” I asked, not having realized I had named it mentally until I spoke.

“I’d better,” he said, his grin even wider. “Your Dad called me down to the lot a week ago to help him pick out which car to give you.”

I looked from him back to the Capri. “And you picked this one?”

He nodded. “I suggested a Mustang, but the only used one they had on the lot was an old ’68. So, he said this was the next closest thing that was still a Ford. It’s kind of a Euro pony car, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” I agreed. “Don’t tell me you already took it for a drive?”

“Sure, I did,” he said. “Did you look at the power plant? She’s got a 2.8-liter V6. And she’s like 300 pounds lighter than a ‘Stang!”

I hadn’t looked, I realized—and what was even odder, Dad hadn’t tried to show it to me. While I was puzzling about that, Jake strode up to me and put out his hand for the key. I surrendered it to his big paw, and he bumped me out of the way with a shoulder. “Climb in!” he said. “We can take her up to the Rim and get back before our team meeting. This may look like a chick’s car, but she can scoot!”

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